


The Life of the Party

by ladysisyphus



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Flirting, M/M, fancy flirting, man-ape-gone-wrong-thing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-26 03:55:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 840
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21727120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladysisyphus/pseuds/ladysisyphus
Summary: Fancy occasions are the best place for flirting.
Relationships: Gladiolus Amicitia/Ignis Scientia
Comments: 3
Kudos: 38





	The Life of the Party

"You've broken out of your usual orbit tonight."  
  
Ignis didn't bother to turn his head to look at the speaker; he knew that gruff rumble well enough. "Practicing hovering at a distance," he said, sighing as he gazed across the ballroom. Noctis was on the other side of it, seated at a long table backed up against a wall, surrounded by guards and dignitaries aplenty. He was wearing a new suit and at least seemed to be making an effort at appearing interested in what the assembled nobles around him had to say. "I am instilling confidence in him by indicating I don't need to be a foot behind his shoulder at every moment."  
  
"And how's that going?" Gladio asked, handing over a flute of champagne.  
  
" _Terribly_." Ignis snatched it and drank it half down in one anxious gulp. "For me, that is. Wonder of wonders, he actually appears to be managing quite well."  
  
"As well as ever," Gladio agreed. He was in his Crownsguard dress uniform, cut tight and sharp enough that it hid every scratch of the inked wings beneath. Ignis wondered how _that_ had gone over with Gladio's noble family, their son coming home with a black-lined eagle stitched into his aristocratic skin. For his own part, Ignis had pointedly refused to give Gladio the mild satisfaction of indicating he'd even noticed. "Small talk's kind of not his thing."  
  
"I wager it's not _anyone's_." Ignis sighed and relaxed fractionally, leaning back against the column he'd chosen to prop up during the evening's festivities. It was a domestic affair, honoring loyal veterans and servants of the crown, which was why Ignis had chosen it as a good low-security situation to try observing from afar. If he were being honest, he'd have to admit that at no time did he truly doubt Noctis' ability to hold his own in a social situation; when he needed to, the young prince could put on a fine and friendly show. No, this was entirely about the anxiety of a mother bird letting hatchlings fly or fall from the nest, whichever came first.  
  
Gladio snorted. "Just as well no one's ever expected it to be mine."  
  
"No, you let your fists do the talking," said Ignis, perhaps more sharply than he'd intended.  
  
Even so, Gladio smiled, impervious as ever to insult. "We should go at it sometime. You and me."  
  
Ignis' eyebrow arched, and he bit back at _least_ the first fifty or so responses that came to his mind. The innuendo, however, was enough to draw his attention away from his charge, at least for the moment; he turned to face Gladio and came right up against that maddeningly handsome grin of his. Of course he'd welcome any opportunity to swing a heavy object in its direction. "What did you have in mind?" Ignis asked, peering over the rims of his glasses at the obnoxiously handsome man before him. Perhaps it would have been bearable if Gladio had somehow failed to register how attractive he was. There had, however, never been the slightest chance that might have slipped his notice.  
  
"Oh, I'm open to just about anything," Gladio answered, folding his arms across his broad chest, making Ignis think of how fine-detailed feathers curled around the flesh beneath. "I might not look it, but I'm pretty versatile."  
  
What had changed? Nothing Ignis could put his finger on. Yet something in the past few months had sharpened, amplified, cut its teeth between them. Tempted though Ignis was to blame the change on the hideously attractive spectacle of Gladio's recent tattooing, that was hardly the whole of it. They'd hardly been friends before, and it felt wrong to say they were so now; he could tell Gladio still thought him something of a prig, and he returned the favor by finding Gladio only just this side of feral. Yet while he suspected both of those early impressions remained, the fact that they were no longer the whole of the picture was something worth considering.  
  
Without breaking eye contact, Ignis lifted his glass to his lips, then poured it back. It was good champagne, of course -- from the royal cellars, and a shame to waste at that -- but the point made was worth it. When it was empty, he thrust the glass back into Gladio's hand. "Fetch me a refill. Then we'll talk arms."  
  
" _Bitch_ ," said Gladio, chuckling with surprise.  
  
"Perhaps," Ignis admitted, the corner of his mouth curling into a wry smile, "yet look who's getting whom another drink."  
  
Gladio's barked laugh at that was the sound of joy at an honest defeat, and as he went off to find the bar, Ignis returned to his leaning duties with smug satisfaction. Perhaps there was something to be said for a touch of roughness around the edges, especially when something other than friendship was concerned. Perhaps, indeed, there could be room for both. Either way, there was no need to rush deciding what they were to one another. For that, there would be time enough.


End file.
